


A very cliched mix-up involving a double bed

by tissaias_piglet



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Modern AU, Once again it's just filth, PWP, Philippa is horny to no one's surprise, Philth, Smut, Tissaia is innocent, tissaias_piglet tries to be funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24217120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tissaias_piglet/pseuds/tissaias_piglet
Summary: “It's just like a romance film!” Philippa grinned, as if she knew exactly how much the very idea would annoy Tissaia. “There's a mix up with the booking and we have to share a double bed when we asked for two singles. Such potential!”Needless to say, Tissaia isn't quite so happy.
Relationships: Philippa Eilhart/Tissaia de Vries
Comments: 13
Kudos: 43





	1. A mix-up with the beds

**Author's Note:**

> I may write a third chapter but that involves motivation and I don't have much of that right now (:  
> For my MoonSecrets <3

At various times in her life, Tissaia had been convinced that she'd done something terrible and seriously pissed off a higher power, as it was the only way to explain her disproportionately bad luck. But all of that paled in comparison to the situation she now found herself in, with probably her least favourite person in the history of the entire world, ever.

“It's just like a romance film, Tissa!” Philippa grinned, as if she knew exactly how much the very idea would annoy Tissaia. Well, it was marginally better than her saying it was like the beginning of a porn film, which to Tissaia's horror had been her own first thought. “There's a mix up with the booking and we have to share a double bed when we asked for two singles. Such potential!”

She raised her eyebrows exaggeratedly, in what Tissaia could only assume was a hint at the limitless potential for them to have very hot sex and/or realise they were in love with each other. Neither of which would be happening, thank you very much. She would never, as long as she lived, fall in love with Philippa Eilhart, and neither would she have sex with her, no matter how good her legs and arse looked in the tight little pencil skirt she was intending on wearing to speak at the conference tomorrow.

Philippa collapsed down onto her – their – bed, leaving her suitcase directly in front of Tissaia, and smirked as she spread out her arms and legs like a starfish, leaving no room for Tissaia to sit or lie down. Not that Tissaia wanted to lie down next to Philippa any sooner than she had to.

“Oh yes. A perfect boy meets girl romance – except I'm not a boy, and I'm without a doubt _not_ secretly happy to be here with you,” Tissaia sniped, kicking Philippa's suitcase out of her way. What annoyed her more than anything else (after the room situation, which went without saying) was that Philippa's travel makeup bag was bigger than Tissaia's entire holdall, which contained everything she needed for two nights away and attending a day long conference. Philippa's suitcase was big enough for a family of 4 on a two week holiday abroad.

Tissaia shoved Philippa's legs out of the way irritably (ignoring how it felt to briefly have her hand on the smooth, bare skin), and sat down on the bed. “And don't call me Tissa. You know I hate it.” She felt Philippa's thigh press against her back and jumped up like she'd been burned. “By all the gods, Philippa, could you be any more annoying?” she snapped, and cursed herself immediately, knowing the younger woman would take it as a challenge.

Philippa, of course, needed no prompting to do exactly that. “Why yes, I actually think I could be,” she smirked, sitting up. “I need to get out of these clothes, it feels as though we travelled for a century today, and I feel dirty. Not in the good way.” Without giving Tissaia a chance to react, Philippa unfastened her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She looked over her shoulder at the elder woman, wanting to enjoy her expression. By Philippa's own standards, her underclothes were quite modest, but she didn't expect Tissaia to see it that way.

_Oh gods. Oh gods._

Philippa's head snapped up. Tissaia definitely hadn't spoken out loud, but she hadn't expected to be able to hear her thoughts. She turned and leaned over a little, showing off her not-ungenerously sized breasts to their full advantage. If she did say so herself, they looked very nice trying desperately to spill out of the black lacy cups of her bra. Tissaia whimpered mentally. That decided it – Tissaia definitely couldn't know that Philippa was able to hear her.

Philippa removed her underclothes quickly, and Tissaia turned away, prudish as ever. She pulled out a nightdress from her suitcase and slipped it on, climbing onto the bed and keeping a surprisingly respectful distance from Tissaia. “I'm actually quite tired, I might just go to sleep,” she said with a yawn.

Tissaia was confused. In fact, she was more than confused. She felt like her head was going to explode from her sheer inability to comprehend the situation. She'd expected Philippa to suggest they went and got very drunk in the hotel bar, or visited the sauna together. Something entirely inappropriate and with definite sexual connotations. There was a trick in there somewhere, she just didn't know what it was. But there was nothing she could do or say, so instead she just nodded and said, “that sounds really nice.”


	2. Tissaia gets no sleep

Tissaia awoke to the feeling of movement and an insistent pressure on her hand. She opened her eyes, but the room was still dark, and she could make nothing out. The warmth of Philippa pressed against her said that the other woman hadn’t got out of bed for any reason, so perhaps she had just rolled over in her sleep. It didn’t explain the feeling that her hand was being held though.

Tissaia closed her eyes again. She was still exhausted, and she just wanted to sleep. She could tease Philippa about holding her hand in the morning; she very much enjoyed the idea of making the younger woman blush for once, instead of it being the other way around.

A quiet moan startled her out of the light doze she’d begun to fall back into. Tissaia rolled her eyes in the darkness. Only Philippa could have a sex dream while they were sharing a bed. She was desperately glad it wasn't the other way around; she could never have looked Philippa in the eye again if she'd had a sex dream while they were in bed together.

She felt movement beside her again, accompanied by the slightest of shuddering breaths. It was quickly becoming obvious to her that Philippa was not actually asleep at all. Tissaia felt her heart begin to race. It excited her in ways she couldn’t, didn’t want to, express that Philippa wanted to hold her hand while she was touching herself. For there was now no doubt in Tissaia’s mind that that’s what she was doing. The repetitive movements, the unsteadiness of her breathing, it was too obvious to deny.

She quickly closed off her thoughts, not wanting the younger woman to realise she was awake and – she couldn’t deny it – stop. Although everything she knew about Philippa suggested that she wouldn’t stop anyway.

Tissaia could feel herself getting wet. Really, really wet. And she was aching, desperate to be touched, to be stroked and rubbed and teased and thoroughly, exhaustingly fucked. It had been so long since anyone had… She silenced the thought of Yen immediately. It wouldn’t do her any good to start on that train of thought.

If she concentrated hard, she could picture, as well as feel, what Philippa’s other hand was doing. She could picture how wet it was getting, Philippa's own juices glistening on her slender fingers and red-varnished nails. She could picture how much faster it was beginning to move, Philippa rubbing rough circles over and around her swollen clit, so wet that it was hard to keep her fingers where she needed them.

Philippa groaned suddenly, hips moving up to meet her frantic touch. Tissaia bit her lip to stifle an answering moan from her own mouth. She wondered if Philippa was getting close, how she would sound when she was. It would be just like her to moan and grunt and swear and say all the filthiest things when she was needy.

Part of her – a part she wanted to say was small, but in fact was much larger than she’d ever admit – wanted Philippa to say her name as she came. But that was impossible, there was no way the other woman would ever think of her in that way. The reason Philippa was holding her hand was simply because Tissaia was the person lying beside her, and she would have done the same had it been Rita, or Keira, or Yennefer, or anyone else. It wasn't because Philippa actually wanted her.

She desperately wanted to hold Philippa’s hand tighter, let her know she was awake, enjoy the moment properly. But the fear that she would stop was enough to instead make Tissaia keep very still and try not to breathe too much, even though the ache between her legs was becoming almost unbearable, and she wanted to press her thighs together to try and ease it.

Philippa made a low, extremely sexy noise in the back of her throat, clinging to Tissaia’s hand more tightly, moving her hips faster. She was trembling. “Tissa!” she gasped, so quietly that the elder woman thought she had imagined it.

Tissaia felt her underwear become even more soaked, and it took all her willpower not to say something. It was every forbidden fantasy come true to hear Philippa saying her name like that, and she found that she was instantly addicted to the sound. The younger woman had to be close, Tissaia could just tell.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” Philippa whimpered, gripping Tissaia's hand so hard it was almost painful, and Tissaia couldn't help herself. She began to stroke Philippa's hand lightly with her thumb, making soothing noises. A ragged cry tore from the other woman when she realised Tissaia was awake and knew what she was doing. She moved her fingers even faster, almost writhing. “I'm-” she managed to gasp.

“I know,” Tissaia purred, “good girl. Come for me.” She reached over, resting her other hand on Philippa's thigh, achingly close to where she so desperately wanted to have her fingers. She wanted to feel Philippa's wetness on them, to be able to suck them and taste her.

“ _Tissaia_!” Philippa whined, her sweat-soaked back arching almost off the bed as she came, her head filled with all of the ways she wanted to corrupt the innocent rectoress. She collapsed back down, panting, and almost sobbed as Tissaia let go of her hand and immediately began kissing her furiously, roughly holding the side of her face to stop her from moving away.


End file.
